


Lost in Translation

by cuneifire



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble, Languages, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 19:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuneifire/pseuds/cuneifire
Summary: Italy- Italy speaks his language so oddly, so different from what he is used to, from how his language is. But Germany cannot bring himself to mind.





	Lost in Translation

**Author's Note:**

> And after a few months of wrestling with my crazy-low writing self-esteem and attempting some fics in which the historical footnotes are a long as the actual text, I bring you what is my true calling- Hetalia fluff!

          Italy speaks his language oddly, Germany thinks with a look at the other nation, gesturing wildly and waving a white flag at him. He’s not even trying to surrender now, no, he’s just pulled it out to emphasize his movements, as if they were not noticeable enough already.

Although it is his language, Germany is not sure as to what Italy is even talking about, to be honest. He is talking too rapidly, running over the important words and shouting the ones which do not mean much, occasionally pausing to switch over to Italian. He smiles as he talks, almost as if he is singing, which does not suit German. Perhaps Italian, with its near lyrical quality and words that almost seem to run into each other, works as a song, but German does not. German you say. German you do not sing, do not spit out with wild hand gestures and confusing smiles. Italy is doing his language the wrong way, he thinks. It is his language, but yet it fails to be familiar.

           But it does not change the fact that Italy still sounds wonderful, even if he is speaking the wrong language. It almost makes up for the fact that he is butchering his language, he is butchering it with the most elegant carving knife Germany has yet to see.

Germany is- Germany is not thinking these things. Germany is staring at the map below him, feeling the old paper crack underneath his gloved fingers. Germany is thinking of war and not language, not- not friendship or love or- or whatever it is that he was not thinking about.

         “And so then I- Germany, are you listening?” Italy looks to him with a confused and happy smile, which somehow makes something in Germany’s chest clench (he does not know why it is doing that, he hopes it’s not an indication of poor health), leaning over the war table to tilt his head at Germany, lay a hand over his.

“Are you listening to what I’m saying?” Italy says, and he sounds curious, almost- is he nervous? (Perhaps that’s just Germany though; his heart is pounding despite a distinct lack of exercise)

        “Wha- Italy, of course I am.” Germany says, and he means it.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not that relevant, but these two were allies during WW2, so that's when this takes place. (It's so weird to not have to footnote twenty seven different things- I feel like I'm missing something) Anyways, hope you enjoyed!


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